Vendor Adventures

I just recently branched out to a couple of new vendors with some success. Tea life is still pretty unexciting for me--I'm mostly on the lookout for a handful of reasonably-priced teas to consume often as staples. Most notably, heavily-roasted yan cha and charcoal-roasted Dong-Ding.

The main adventure was with Camellia Sinensis. A tea friend had shared with me a couple of their aged oolongs and I thought they were pretty good for the price. So, we went in together for an order and explored a few other aged oolongs, some yan cha and a couple of fresh Taiwan oolongs. It seems we picked up the last of their stock of 1987 Muzha Tieguanyin; it's quite tasty and I'll likely be trying the 1994 option the next time I return. The 1982 Wu He is also quite interesting, with a much earthier beety flavor. The 1995 Dong-Ding doesn't really taste very aged, but the roast is heavy and satisfying for when I want one of those teas that's roasted to the limit of acceptability (but in a good way). We also tried the un-aged "cooked" Dong-Ding and Muzha Tieguanyin. The former really isn't roasted much at all, which is not the kind of Dong-Ding I'm looking for, but the Tieguanyin is nice--almost as good as the 2009 one offered on Hou De, which is more than I can say for the 2010 Hou De TGY. I think it was a successful experiment, but I was thwarted in finding good yan cha (Shui Xian was average and the Tie Luo Han has a downright funky note) and didn't really succeed in finding a good Dong-Ding with the roast level I was hoping for.

The second vendor was Dragon Tea House. I only ordered two teas--a 1999 Dong-Ding which appeared to be well-roasted, and a 2010 Shui Xian which also looked to be high-fire. The Dong-Ding was kind of a bust--not much of a charcoal flavor (probably because it's 11 years old, right?) and sort of a weird hybrid character. The wet leaves reveal some suspicious results, looking like a blend of two different processing styles, so I'm not quite sure what to make of the tea overall, though the flavor shows evidence of aging. The "Nonpareil" Shui Xian, on the other hand was a resounding success--exactly what I've been looking for for quite a while. It's heavily roasted but has a nice solid tea base, and I'm hoping to save up the cash for a large order. I've got a hunch that this is the type of yan cha that produces the round, thick aged yan cha that I've had the pleasure to experience just a few times. Either way, it's a nice drinker now for the days I'm not in the mood for more contemporarily-processed yan cha. I have to give kudos to Dragon Tea House for providing so many and such helpful photos for their oolongs--I was able to identify the characteristics I was looking for (blistery leaves, dark wet leaf color and dark liquor color) with relative confidence and the tea that arrived didn't disappoint me. I'm intrigued to check out more of their yan cha--I don't think I've ever seen a vendor with so many obscure cultivars available, and some of them look to be traditionally processed, too!

I just posted two yixing pots on the Teaware for Sale section, for anyone interested. Happy tea drinking to all!

Nerd Stuff

A scientist friend of mine gifted me this righteous graduated cylinder. With it I'm now able to precisely measure the volumes of my teaware.

For instance, this little "70ml" qing shui ni pot? Well, it's actually 80ml. I'm not sure what sellers use to measure their teaware before estimating the volume, but I find it generally varies 10-20ml from the professed volume, which can sometimes be a bit of a pain--like the time I bought a "65ml" pot that was actually 50ml, a noticeably less practical size.

Of course, this sort of preciseness has little bearing on the intuitive tea brewing of a gong fu mystic (which is what we're all trying to be, right?), but the nerd in me really would find knowing the exact volume of his teapots very interesting. You didn't see, but I just pushed my imaginary nerd glasses back up the bridge of my nose. Really, though, on the occasions when I round up four or five pots to compare how they brew the same tea, it's pretty helpful to know exact volumes so I can either attempt to fill the pots differently or use a different proportion of leaf when setting the parameters of the comparison. Other than that, this cylinder is a nifty but impractical addition to my ironic quasi-high school science class tea setup!

In other news, for those who are looking, I added a nice tea boat to the blog's "Teaware for Sale" section.

I'm on the verge of branching out to a couple of new tea vendors--Dragon Tea House on eBay and Camellia Sinensis of Canada. My tea budget isn't anywhere near its high water mark (which means I'm unfortunately unable to splurge on things like aged pu-erh at the moment) but I'm running out of my staples--good, old-fashioned Yan Cha and roasted Taiwan oolong. Time to venture out!

Relaxation

Ah, to kick back with a relaxing cup of tea. I've been way too busy lately with planning and executing my CD release. Now the event is over and it's a perfect opportunity to pause reflect over a few cups of tea. Today I'm drinking 1996 Menghai 8582.

This is an interesting tea in my collection; I own a few cakes but it's not really to the point where I really enjoy every session. Compared with some of its mid/late 90's contemporaries it's not the most mature tea--the mouthfeel is fairly rough and the longevity isn't particularly impressive. Occasionally, though, it'll show flashes of the light, silky sweetness that I've tasted in much older versions of the same recipe. It's certainly aging, but it needs to mellow out quite a bit. This is the kind of mid-aged pu-erh that I'll check in on every several months and by the end of the session I usually decide that I should wait longer before trying it again. Still, it's been months since I last drank it and I haven't really drank much aged pu-erh lately.

Whilst in Portland picking up my finished CDs I also managed to make a couple of purchases. The first is the nicest acoustic guitar I've yet owned--a Larrivée D-03R--and the second is the antique Japanese porcelain cup pictured right, which I found at Shogun's Gallery on NW 23rd. I've been disrespectfully sullying the cup with Chinese tea for the better part of the last week! I've been on the lookout for a decent blue and white old porcelain cup for a while and this one fits the bill--its pale blue swooping bird is pretty cool and I enjoy the irregularity of the foot, which means that the cup is permanently cocked at a slight angle. Shogun's Gallery was fun--they have quite a selection of tetsubin in the $200-$350 range. Although I was informed that most of their customers buy them as decorations, there were a few with visible mineral patinas that I would be excited to take a chance and brew some water in. I was quietly appalled to see an old tetsubin on the proprietors' desk repurposed as a pen-and-scissor holder. Gasp! Hopefully there was a good reason. I rarely get to go to nice teaware stores, so my "don't buy something" threshold is quite low. Luckily I got off pretty easy with the teacup. The new guitar means I won't exactly be splurging on any tongs of pu-erh or old pots any time soon, but a guitar that begs to be played is worth several times its weight in gold.

Seattle's summer came and went over the course of about 3 weeks. It's now drizzling interminably....it's warm enough to open the windows, though, so at least my pu-erh cakes are going to enjoy the weather.

Tea Masters

Let me preface these reviews by pleading Stéphane to forgive me for taking an inexcusable amount of time to write up my tasting notes for these teas that he kindly donated for review! I've mentioned how busy I've been these past three months, but it's really not much of a justification. I've been in hermit mode--working hard, trying to save money, not drinking much tea, and I've even retrogressed musically, mostly listening to a playlist of albums I haven't listened to in over a year--what started at 4500 songs is now threatening to drop below 1000. Maybe I should try that with my pu-erh stash! So, my relaxation time has been devoted to "pure" relaxation activities rather than constructive ones like rhapsodizing about the sensory delights of tea. Time to make amends a bit.

If you've found your way to my seedy, unkempt corner of the tea blogosphere, then you're already well familiar with Stéphane's blog, Tea Masters, and the varied, high-quality and multilingual content he's been posting for years. Stéphane actually contacted me after a music- and Tea Masters-related post and offered some samples. We had a nice exchange of emails that resulted in some oolongs and pu-erh winging their way to me--Stéphane wanted to know what I thought of his pu-erh because I write about it so often. Also, and more unusually, he sent me 6g of his 1990 Hong Shui oolong (at the time retailing for $18/6g) on orders that I should "pay what I think it's worth." Tasting these teas was fun.

The festivities started with two unaged hong shui oolongs. Direct comparison seems simultaneously appropriate (since they're both hong shui) and inappropriate (since they're from different years, seasons and growing regions), but here goes. Of the two, the fall 2009 tea was darker in character--more of a roasted aroma, more fruity notes, and more of a cereal character--but somehow a greener liquor. The spring 2010 tea, on the other hand, did seem to have more of a gaoshan character, with a more lingering aftertaste, fuller mouthfeel, and somehow a redder liquor. The leaves weren't in the best shape but were clearly hand-harvested. I've had a number of hong shui oolongs in the past year--probably over 10, come to think of it. They seem pretty popular right now, at least in the Western tea market. Although there have only been a few that I'd consider buying quantities of, I like what the tea represents--higher oxidation, a bit of roasting, and an emphasis on more than just aroma. I've also noticed a wide variation in how much oxidation and roasting are employed to make a hong shui--these fall into the majority category (medium oxidation and light roasting), but I've seen a few that are more like black (red) teas.

Next was a 2010 spring Alishan soft stem oolong. One of my online tea buddies was subtly ribbing me for not drinking much gaoshan oolong--we all have our tastes, I guess, and mine usually favor something with at least medium roasting. If a gaoshan oolong is good, though, I always leave the session wishing I felt like drinking gaoshan more often. High mountain oolongs are one of those tea types where, for me, it's less about comparing minute differences between mountains and harvests and more about whether the tea "has it," that is, if it displays the level of characteristics it should for being the type of tea it is--I'd rather drink no gaoshan oolong than mediocre gaoshan. This Alishan fit the bill; refined, subtle, floral and just a touch fruity. The leaves were soft without any harsh texture, and the infusions rode the edge of bitterness on the first couple infusions, gently tapering into fruity squash sweetness. Satisfying.

The younger pu-erh (whose URL I can't seem to find) is Stéphane's fave, a 2006 Lincang. I fear I may have given an inaccurate impression of my drinking habits--though I do love pu-erh, I know very little about the different growing regions, factories, recipes etc. Although pu-erh's one of my top tea types, it's still another tea where I try to find a tea that "has it." For pu-erh, usually "it" is a certain amount of agedness, since drinking aged pu-erh provides an experience I haven't found in any other tea type. I do dabble in younger pu-erh from time to time, though, and this Lincang was a reminder of how such dabblance (new word I made up, what do you think?) can be pretty rewarding. This tea tastes a bit more aged than the other 2006 teas I've been recently drinking, with a character that tends more toward the hearty rather than the high and sweet. I'm not really in the market for 2006 pu-erh, so it's hard to say whether I'd buy this or not if I were. Like a lot of semi-aged pu-erh it's beginning an awkward adolescence but has enough going for it that it's still enjoyable to drink.

The second pu-erh is a loose 1970's sheng. This tea definitely fall in the "has it" category--I think my sample was 2.5g, and it was sufficient for over 10 steepings in a 100ml pot. Gentle, vibrant and well-aged. I don't have too much else to say about this one, other than that it fits the bill of what I look for in aged pu-erh; just a nice relaxing drinking experience with enough complex flavor to keep things interesting--leaves were pretty complete with some twigs. For the price, you could probably get a better deal, but this was a good pu-erh.

Finally, we have the 1990 aged hong shui. This was the tea I'd been anticipating the most, both because of the price and because I'd read a number of Stéphane's posts about it. I'm gradually being convinced that aged oolong is a viable tea genre, and this tea was another item of evidence contributing to that conclusion. Dark leaves, loosely rolled. A bit of hot water sets free a grainy aroma and commences an entirely enjoyable session. This tea lasted a valiant number of steepings, considering it's getting rather long in the tooth, and the initial 5-8 were full of robust complexity that gradually became simpler as the infusion times lengthened. I eventually steeped this tea for 10+ minutes at a time and was interested to try it next to an aged Fo Shou oolong that was at a similar place steeping-wise. Though they were both steeped-out, the hong shui had a much more medicinal character than the fo shou, which was still very floral/fruity. It would be interesting (if impossible) to see how one of the other hong shui oolongs from this group tastes in 20 years compared to how this one tastes now. It's hard to imagine they'd be very similar, but who knows? As far as deciding how much this tea is worth, I think $18 would be a reasonable price if I sat down in a nice tea house and ordered it off the menu; the quality of this tea is as good as the better aged oolongs I've tried, and simply having the experience of tasting a tea like this is worth the price now and again. I would definitely not be trying to stock my tea cabinet at this price (or even rushing to order another 6g), but for a one-off experience (like going to the movies or a concert) an $18 treat is permissible. Luckily, Stéphane's reputation is well-supported so spending the money on one of his more expensive teas isn't much of a risk.

To wrap up, I'll mention the brewing suggestions Stéphane made. One of my favorite things about Tea Masters is that it's as much about the details of brewing tea as it is about the teas themselves. Stéphane recommended using a gaiwan and told me the samples would be small in order to illustrate that it's possible to get more out of less tea. I couldn't agree more. When it comes to yan cha or charcoal roasted Taiwan oolong, I'll generally load the pot sot it's completely packed when wet. When it comes to gaoshan oolong and young pu-erh, though, I'll use much less--usually a scant covering of the bottom of the pot, or slightly more than the bottom of a gaiwan. I don't really enjoy much bitterness or aggressiveness in highly floral oolong, so 3-4g/100ml usually does the trick. When the samples arrived, I was excited to see that Stéphane's leaf allocation was pretty close to what I would choose, though I might pile on a pinch more leaf for the more oxidized oolongs. As for the gaiwan/yixing dilemma, I think it's a style thing--I'm happy to use a gaiwan for testing teas but I'll probably always be thinking in the back of my mind how the tea could be seasoning one of my pots. Good tea tastes good no matter what. Thanks Stéphane!

Up for Air (Dong-Ding & More Teaware for Sale)

Wow, another two-month hiatus! The time has sure passed quickly. Music is again responsible for my retreat from the tea blogosphere; finishing recording, mixing, mastering and designing the album has taken nearly all of my spare time (and a large number of my sleep hours). It's been a good kind of busy, though. Very fulfilling and engaging on a level that few other things can match. I've still been drinking tea, of course, though I've been buying less of it in order to fund the upcoming CD release. I've also been keeping up on my favorite tea blogs, though after a few years of doing this it seems like summer is generally a slower period for tea blogging and tea vendor releases. A bit surprising, I guess, considering the summer is when almost all of the fresh tea is finally available! Maybe everyone is just too busy drinking to write.

Today I'll consider my most recent yixing purchase as well as one of the most recent tea purchases I made (all the way back in June!). The pot comes from Jing Tea Shop (who still has at least one identical pot still in stock). Good quality duan ni clay; ~100ml capacity. The lid opening is the largest out of any pot I've ever owned, which makes getting leaves in and out extremely easy. I don't recall seeing a lot of duan ni teapots around on blogs; though a fair number of vendors sell them, they aren't often lauded by consumers. Well I'm here today to do just that. I think people are often a bit worried by this clay's porosity. Yes, it is quite porous--usually not high-fired and with plenty of potential to draw something out of your tea. It's probably that characteristic that worries some people: "Well it'll just suck the flavor out of my tea." Yeah, maybe if you're using it with green gaoshan oolong or young sheng pu-erh. After a fair bit of experimentation, I've found this pot makes certain teas taste better than any other pot I own--teas where something NEEDS to be drawn out. For example, heavily charcoal roasted teas like Wuyi Yan Cha, Taiwanese oolongs like Muzha Tieguanyin, Dong-Ding, etc., or aged sheng and cooked pu-erh. In addition to merely rounding out the actual flavor of the tea, I find more porous clays can smooth and thicken the mouthfeel to an astounding degree.

However, pots like this do take some seasoning before performing at their best (probably another reason why people are a bit tentative about trying this type of clay). When I first started using it, this pot only brewed one tea ideally--a very heavily charcoal-baked Dong Ding that I'm saving for a couple of years. After some patient seasoning, though, this pot produces mouth-wateringly smooth, full-feeling sessions from most Dong-Dings and now expertly handles teas with higher floral notes like Muzha Tieguanyin and traditional roasted Anxi Tieguanyin. I won't lie--I had to sacrifice a couple of teas to the seasoning of this pot--in particular a decently machine-roasted competition Dong-Ding from Hou De, which was just a bit too green to overcome the porosity. All in the name of an awesome pot, though.

Needless to say, I've been drinking a whole lot of Dong-Ding lately. The aforementioned heavily charcoal-baked Dong-Ding and a less heavily charcoal roasted Dong-Ding both came from Floating Leaves Tea. Although I've been tea friends with Shiuwen for a couple of years, I haven't bought much tea from her because I consume very little of gaoshan oolongs like Baozhong, Lishan, etc., and those are her speciality. This spring, though, she bought some really tasty aged teas and small quantities of a few Dong-Dings. I apologize for being part of the reason that these teas never made it to her website! I'm hoping Shiuwen continues to expand into the arena of charcoal-roasted teas, because with her seasoned palate she picked some really good ones that exhibit both skilled roasting and solid tea bases. The lesser-roasted of the two gave me constant companionship through my final recording sessions--a week of 10-12 hour working days--so it's got a special place in my heart, not to mention some really solid seasoning for its pot. Those two teas and the success I had with my new duan ni pot inspired me to crack open a charcoal roasted Dong-Ding purchased from Hou De about a year and a half ago; unsurprisingly that one's now nearly gone!

Well, I owe a couple posts--one on a handful of tea samples that Stephane at Teamasters was kind enough to send me quite a while back, and another on the brand new Essence of Tea sheng pu-erh cakes that recently completed their long voyage from China to England and thence to Seattle. Until then, those interested can have a look at my TEAWARE FOR SALE page; it's time to thin out the tea shelf again and there are 3 very nice yixing pots available (one rather old) and 2 Xu De Jia cups (originally from Hou De). Best wishes, and I hope everyone is enjoying their respective summers. Weather in Seattle has been, to be blunt, piss-poor. Luckily, though, cool weather is better for tea drinking!

1985 Loose Menghai 8582 & The Mandarin's Tea Room

This afternoon I had a nice session with this 80's Menghai 8582 pu-erh from The Mandarin's Tea Room. Tim has been blogging for several years, but only recently started selling tea. I'm far from the first to write about his teas, and I'm sure plenty of you out there have already been attracted by his shop's alluring-looking teas and hyperbolic prices. Like you, I've been interested since the site went up but only recently did I take the plunge and order 5g each of this tea and the 80's brick, as well as some of the 2009 high-fired Anxi Tieguanyin.

My time with this tea was very pleasant. The loose leaves show the spectrum of aged pu-erh colors, from dark brown to more of a rusty red for the buds and yellowed leaves, and there are enough white specks to indicate some period of humid storage. My 5g sample was quite loose--not really any chunks to speak of, which makes me wonder when this tea was last in cake form, and why it was broken up (assuming it's been broken up since before Tim bought it). Brewing loose pu-erhs takes a bit more attention; since the leaves are all already separate, the flavor and essence of the leaves comes out a bit quicker and I have to adjust my tried-and-true brewing parameters a bit and be swift pouring off the rinse.

The aroma is rich, perfect for these final damp spring days, and each brew fills the cup with thick darkness topped with swirling mist. I've tried enough Menghai pu-erhs of this vintage that experiencing this tea isn't a revelation, but more of a very happy comfort. As with most aged pu-erh, the mouth feel is a main attraction--smooth as the day is long, though there's a tiny trace of astringency that some more aging could probably take care of. Likewise, the flavor is well-developed and mature, but as the steeping times first start increasing there's a vanishing hint of bitterness. When a tea's character is so full, though, it's hard to fault it for exhibiting the last vestiges of its youth--if I owned a cake of this tea, I doubt I'd be telling myself "Wait 5-10 more years, then it'll be fully mature." If anything, a fleeting whisper of youth only adds complexity to an aged tea--more important to my palate is that the aged characteristics outweigh the youthful ones, and there's no contest here. I'd also note that this tea's flavor seems to exhibit more high notes, maybe more acidity than other aged 8582's I've tried, which is a welcome addition to its complexity--clearly I'm not even close to having this recipe mastered! Although there are better values out there for sampling, I'd confidently add this tea to the short list of "good" aged pu-erh options if you're unfamiliar with the genre and want to gain a better understanding of the baffling relationship between young and old pu-erh.



I also have to mention the packaging (pictured above), which seems to be designed more with NYC residents in mind rather than seasoned tea drinkers. Yes, my 5g of 8582 really did come in a glass vial with a cork stopper. The ornate tag describes the tea. The glass vial came in a white box (along with my other 5g sample, in its own vial, of course) sealed with a sticker that reads "Pure Premium of the Choicest China Teas...Superior Quality Leaves." The white box was in turn wrapped in tissue paper, which was sealed with another special sticker, and a separate embossed card details brewing instructions for the tea. I acknowledge and want to be respectful of the effort that's gone into selecting and providing these quality teas, but to me this kind of packaging is over the top and arguably wasteful. I appreciate the impact of an attractive and classy look when it comes to branding, but so much extra material and frill seems designed to either attract people who don't know enough about tea to be attracted by the teas' virtues themselves, or to make the rather "NYC" prices seem to be more "worth it." The second option is a little ironic, considering the fact that the expense of the custom stickers, cards and multiple individual wrappings is only driving the prices up more. If there were a "No fancy wrappings, please, just tea in bags adequate for storage" option on the site's checkout, I'd gladly select it, but instead I'm feeling guilty about instigating the waste. However, I give Tim credit for so completely conceptualizing the look of his product and not compromising on presentation--it's just not my style!

Unfortunately I don't have enough time these days to individually review all of the teas from this purchase, I will say that the 2009 high-fired Tieguanyin is my top pick. The tea's sumptuously complex, easily the best of the few fired Anxi Tieguanyins I've tried, and I've been surprised at how vibrant the high notes and acidity are. I'd venture to say that the tea's flavor profile is the closest thing to Taiwan's Muzha Tieguanyin I've tasted from the mainland, and that Tim's tea is close to being as good as the great Muzha TGY currently offered on Hou De, though neither are inexpensive. As always, all quibbles aside, I'm thankful for the opportunity to try such good teas.

2006 Ban Tian Yao

This 2006 Wuyi oolong comes from Hou De. Ban Tian Yao can be had from a number of different vendors, but this is probably the best one I've tried. It's the last remaining Hou De yan cha available from a series offered (I think) in 2006, before they started only offering yearly Da Hong Pao/Rou Gui/Shui Xian. The roast is right in the middle range and it tastes like a 3-4 year old yan cha--the punchy high notes have mellowed and the initial mouthfeel has become a lot softer. Around this age, it seems like medium/light roast yan cha become quite a bit more subtle. I haven't had many light roast teas of this age, but I imagine their greenness wouldn't hold up too well--the 2 year-old light roasts I've had mostly seemed dulled, not refined, which leads me to my next point.

As I've mentioned ad nauseum, I'm on a perennial hunt for well-roasted yan cha that reach a peak after a few years of aging. I bought this tea for a second time hoping it would be a bit more like some of the other teas in its series--the Tie Luo Han, Bai Ji Guan and Shui Jin Gui (the stocks of which I think I personally finished off for all three) were probably my three favorite yan cha ever (in that order), and over the past year I polished them each off with a happy mouth and a heavy heart. So far, I've found few teas to replace them, and this Ban Tian Yao doesn't quite fit the bill either--today I loaded the shit out of my pot, which sometimes increases the flavor concentration, but with this tea it mostly just increased the caffeine experience. It's a pretty good tea, though, and demonstrably better than most of the yan cha I've been drinking daily this year--it just doesn't have the roasting level/quality I'm hoping for. I get the feeling that this is what a lot of the "heavier" roasted teas currently available from Jing Tea Shop, Seven Cups and perhaps even Hou De will taste like in 3-4 years: a bit of mellowed improvement, but not worth storing for much longer after that for danger of diminished potency. No way to be sure without storing some, though, which I'm doing to a limited extent. All I know for sure is that the charcoal taste in my favorites has been strong enough that they were probably undrinkable during their first couple of years, which doesn't describe any of the teas I've tasted this year. Ah well, there are still plenty of tasty and drinkable yan cha available out there even if I don't get my way. Probably more than many other tea genres, though, there are some pretty shitty examples.


This pin zi ni pot has developed a pretty healthy sheen since the end of January, thanks to an almost daily diet of yan cha. I'm not very meticulous about brushing the pot with tea liquor or polishing it with a cloth. I'll pour the dregs of a cha hai on it occasionally, but if the tea's good it's more likely to end up in my mouth, so most of the external patina on my pots ends up a) where drips repeatedly happen, and b) where what little I pour on the pot is likely to sit without running off. Pots look so much better after they've been used for a while--even if the burnishing isn't great, a bit of tea residue brings out so many more visual dimensions.